


All That You Are

by subverted



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Devotion, Emotional Constipation, Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Team as Family, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-07-02 22:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15805587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subverted/pseuds/subverted
Summary: Sometimes, the best path to a destination isn't the simplest one. Or, Shiro rejects Keith, but that doesn't mean that's the end for them. And they have some help from friends along the way.Her son looks adrift, lost in the world, and a sudden realization strikes Krolia's chest. She'd assumed, more than anything, that their feelings would be mutual, but she doesn't know Shiro--not really. She's seen him purely through her son's eyes, seen purely what he means to Keith, and perhaps, through that, his hopes have become her hopes. Perhaps all the gestures that Keith always hoped could mean something more did mean something to her, because what she was seeing was not Shiro, but what Keith wanted him to be.





	1. prologue - krolia

**Author's Note:**

> This a prequel of sorts to The Stars In Our Eyes, though that one is absolutely not required reading!

Traveling in the Black Lion is one of the most peaceful experiences that Krolia has known in a long time. It's reminiscent, in a sense, of drifting through the Quantum Abyss, touching upon memories of a childhood she'd once thought were lost to her forever, but the nostalgia here is a different kind, one less sheltered, less dreamlike, with more than just her and Keith to keep each other insulated against the unforgiving cold of space-time. There are others: Keith's friends, the family that he's found, but if she had to pinpoint the biggest difference of all, it's probably that man.

Shiro.

He was so prevalent within her son's memories that there were times she could almost imagine a third person traveling with them, but the atmosphere that Shiro and Keith create when they're together in the present warms her in a very different way. The soft looks, the gentle touches, are all so much like man she once loved, and if she closes her eyes, it feels like she's there again, on the beautiful blue planet that felt like home like no other has since.

For the moment, it's just her and her son. The wolf is playing in the cargo hold, and Shiro's retreated to go through some mental exercises before he retires for the night. Truthfully, they should probably be doing the same, but Keith's hands linger on the controls of his lion, gaze sharp yet not seeming to focus on anything in particular. His eyebrows flit, like he's working out some kind of complex problem, so Krolia is quiet, remaining by his side should he choose to speak about it.

"Mom?" Keith's voice is quiet, so much younger than he's grown.

"Yes, Keith?"

He seems to focus a little too hard on the the floor, and when he looks up again, there's something almost sad in his eyes. Confused, yet determined. "I think I need to tell him."

_I think,_ he says, as though he's seeking an opinion, but his tone suggests he's already made up his mind either way. It brings a smile to her face; he reminds her so much of his father, sometimes. She squeezes his shoulder and nods.

"Of course. I'll stay here tonight." Keith lifts himself to his feet and starts heading toward the door, but something in her compels her to stop him. Just for a moment. "Keith?" He looks back to her, and she continues, "Good luck. I'll be waiting for good news."

The smile he gives her lights her whole being.

  
  


***

  
  


Morning comes quieter than usual. All three of them early risers, like to move with focus and discipline, but for once, Krolia finds herself alone. Normally, she might move to wake them, knowing that routine is absolutely crucial, but she wonders if perhaps they're bonding, and decides that giving them a single morning, just this once, should be fine. When Keith finally does enter, he's by himself, and he's not wearing the expression she would have expected. It's cloudy, unreadable. He sits quietly, his bangs hanging low in his eyes, hunching in his shoulders like he wants to disappear.

Normally, she prefers to wait. She respects her son, wants him to be able to come to her without prompting, but right now, she finds herself moving without thinking, wanting, needing to act. Needing to be by his side.

She's never seen him look so small.

"Keith? What happened?" It's meant to be gentle; it comes out more demanding than she wants.

"He said no." He looks up to her, not hurt so much as... stunned.

Her son looks adrift, lost in the world, and a sudden realization strikes Krolia's chest. She'd assumed, more than anything, that their feelings would be mutual, but she doesn't know Shiro--not really. She's seen him purely through her son's eyes, seen purely what he means to Keith, and perhaps, through that, his hopes have become her hopes. Perhaps all the gestures that Keith always hoped could mean something more _did_ mean something to her, because what she was seeing was not Shiro, but what Keith wanted him to be. What he needed him to be.

She's at a loss for words. She isn't sure how to advise Keith when she's made so great a miscalculation.

Yet, when Keith continues speaking, the confusion there is tinged with up hope, some strange desperation in his eyes, as though he needs her to confirm something for him. "He never said he doesn't feel the same way."

A strange way of rejecting someone, but that doesn't mean--

Or maybe it does. She doesn't know Shiro, but she thinks that maybe she understands what he's doing.

She grips her son's shoulder, and keeps her words guarded, careful. "Keith. It may be wise to give him more time."

She wishes she could say more to him, or perhaps even to Shiro, but she knows that as much as she wants to, this isn't her place. This is something that the two of them need to figure out for themselves.

But it seems to be enough; Keith looks content, for now. "You're right," he replies, his voice soft. "He's been through so much... I need to let him rest for now."

_So have you_ , she thinks loudly, but she dares not say it. She knows, perhaps a little too well, that Keith would wait an entire lifetime, if it were for Shiro. His devotion is passionate, single-minded, and unselfish, something both beautiful and rare, and leaves her hoping beyond all hope that she's right.

Hoping with all that she has that she hasn't sent her son down a path of waiting for what may never be.

 


	2. part i: perspective

The room's been silent for a while now. Keith told him he wanted to to talk, and now, he's curled into himself, the words sticking, and all Shiro can do is wait and try to be patient with him. Normally, he might try harder than this, push him a little to break out of shell, but he can feel something, here. Call it Keith's resolve to do this on his own, and Shiro wants to honor that. It's what he deserves.

Still, he's not entirely sure how to look at him. There's this twisting feeling, some sinking sense of dread. A premonition that he knows what's coming here, and he doesn't know how to stop it.

"... I love you," Keith says finally, raising his head with quiet determination.

"Keith--"

"I love you," he repeats. It's more firm this time, and he steps forward with desperation, a silent plea in his eyes, and somewhere deep inside him, Shiro can't help but feel like somehow, he's _failed._

He draws in a breath, running a hand through his hair. ... He doesn't want to do this. Keith is the one of the closet friends he's ever had, the one person that always broke through to him no matter what, and he deserves better than this. But there's something that needs to be said here, and though he wishes he could to the core of his being, Shiro can't protect Keith from his feelings. Not when they're for him.

"I'm sorry," he says after a quiet moment. He eyes are still glued to the floor, but he forces himself to lift his head, to make himself watch what he's doing to to his best friend. "We can't do this."

Keith's mouth moves, on the verge of shouting some protest. Maybe there was some small speech prepared about his feelings that's fallen to the wayside. Maybe he doesn't appreciate Shiro's tactical use _we_ instead of _I._ But he pulls in a breath, and asks instead, "Why?"

... He owes him that much. Shiro knows he does.

"I don't think it would be appropriate," he tells him, keeping his voice as gentle as he can. "Keith, think about what we're doing out here. We have an entire universe to fight for, and that mission has to come first. Not you, not me. We have a responsibility to our team, and to the world."

"But that doesn't mean we can't be happy," Keith protests. His eyes are pleading with him, begging him, and Shiro has to look away again. He wonders that if he looks into them for too long, he might set something into motion he'd regret.

"I know," Shiro agrees. "But there's too much at stake here. ... I'm sorry."

Silence hangs over the room again, and a small pit of loathing twists in his stomach. He hates this, he really does. If it were up to him, maybe he really would give Keith a chance, but the truth is, he knows. He'll never be able to put him first, and the thought of hurting him like _that_ is almost unbearable. Better to rip off the band-aid now than to end up in a situation that would destroy their friendship forever.

Reflexively, he places a hand on Keith's shoulder and squeezes. "I'll switch lions for a little while. We'll get some space, and cool off a little."

"Yeah. Okay," Keith agrees. His voice is... hard to hear. If he were angry or resentful, Shiro could understand. Maybe that would be easier. But he doesn't even sound hurt so much as resigned. As confused. Not understanding, but accepting, like maybe getting pushed away was an inevitability.

And after how hard Shiro's always fought to make sure Keith always feels like he has someone fighting in his corner.

"Keith," he says quietly. "We're going to get through this. It's going to be okay."

"I know." And suddenly Keith is smiling, and something in it makes Shiro's heart ache. "You'll always be my best friend, Shiro. Nothing can take that from us."

It's like somehow, Keith is the one comforting him, and despite himself, Shiro has to return that smile. "You're right. ... I'm proud of you, Keith."

It might be a weird thing to say in this context, but that doesn't make it any less true; he is. Keith has come so far, in leadership, in opening himself up to other people, to letting himself trust, and Shiro wonders if he overestimated how much he'd hurt him by doing this. Keith is strong, he's resilient, and he's formed a real bond with the rest of the team. He's not alone, and he never will be, and he must have realized that by now.

But he can't help but wonder why watching him walk away hurts so much.

  
  


***

  
  


The inside of Green is an absolute disaster, and Shiro finds his brow twitching involuntarily. Frankly, he's not sure how Pidge can stand it; he's always been the type of person to keep his paces neat and clutter free. But, the way they're traveling right now, he's in absolutely no position to criticize her, and doesn't. It wouldn't be fair. There's a kind of charm in it, anyway, the way she's gotten used to living in a state of organized chaos and unabashedly does whatever she wants at whatever hours she wants. It reminds him a lot of Matt, in a way.

What really draws his eye is the pile of trash in the corner of the room. Water bottles, empty food rations, but some of it takes on a specific shape, and he lifts his eyebrows.

"Is that us?"

"Huh?" Pidge lifts her head from the game she's playing, and smiles when he notices her dummies. "Yeah, I made 'em on that trash asteroid when we all got separated."

It's kind of adorable in a weird way, but he can't help but ask. "Why?"

"Well," she explains, turning off her screen and swinging her legs over the bed so can face Shiro, "I guess it was pretty lonely, out there. I missed you guys. I used them to... think about what everyone else would say, and it felt like the team was still with me."

He smiles fondly, and settles into his own bed across from her. "You've really come a long a way."

"Yeah," Pidge agrees. "You told me owning who I am will make me a better paladin, so... I did."

Like it's just that simple. "It shows," Shiro assures her.

But the conversation takes a turn he wasn't expecting. "So, what's up with you and Keith?"

He could curse; he'd almost forgotten how perceptive she can be, sometimes. But he manages to smooth a smile onto his face, and shrug it off like it's nothing. "Ah, it's nothing. I figured Keith and Krolia could use some time together." Strictly speaking, it's not a lie. That it's because he knows Krolia can handle picking up the pieces he's left behind is neither here nor there.

"I guess that's true," Pidge muses, and tosses her legs back into bed. "Well, I'm gonna get some shuteye. Night, Shiro."

"Goodnight, Pidge." The lights dim, and he pulls himself into his makeshift futon as well. Pidge can't possibly realize it, but she's given him a lot to think about. About who is, where he's going. What he wants to be.

He thinks of Keith, and all that he's done for him; the way he's always stood by him no matter how dark the world around him started getting. How he accepted him, and kept relentlessly pushing his way into Shiro's life. How there's so much Keith knows about him and who he is that nobody else ever can. But maybe because of that, he _has_ to realize that this what Shiro is like. What he's always been like. His dreams expand like the universe itself, and he has a single-minded drive and ambition to be _more_ , to break out of himself, free himself from the shell of Takashi Shirogane and be something bigger, something greater. And nothing ever can or will put that in the back seat. Not even love.

This is how he owns who he is: by admitting to himself what his values are, where his hopes lay. And that's not what Keith deserves. He deserves someone whose sole focus will be him, and him alone.

Shiro may not ever be able to become that man. He may never be able to return Keith's passion and give him the love he's owed. And the best possible gift he can give him is a chance to move on, so that someday, he can find someone who can.

... It makes sense. He knows his reasoning is sound. But then, he wonders why he can't get rid of this knot in his chest. Why this hurts so much. Like he can't stop feeling like he's failed someone who needs him.

He once told Pidge to own who she is, and for the first time in a long time, he wonders:

  
  


  
  


Is he?

 


End file.
